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A WAR HE DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR
Reivan sat at a long, gleaming table, across from an assembly of nobles, generals, and advisors.
His headache was already forming.
He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up here, but the moment a royal messenger had arrived at his estate with an official summons, he knew nothing good was coming.
And now, Duke Varion—the human equivalent of a warhammer—was staring at him like a rare beast to be tamed.
"Sir Reivan," the duke rumbled, stroking his beard. "Your strategic insight has proven… noteworthy. The empire would be honored to have you officially join the war effort."
Reivan’s internal alarm bells screamed.
Translation: "Get involved in a brutal war where you'll either die on the battlefield or get politically assassinated afterward."
Nope. No thank you.
Reivan tilted his head like an idiot. "Ah… war effort? What war?"
The room stilled.
Duke Varion blinked. The count next to him coughed. Even the scribe writing down meeting minutes paused his quill.
Princess Seraphina, seated at the head of the table, narrowed her eyes.
The Holy Kingdom was actively seizing territory. The barbarian tribes had breached northern forts. Even the local taverns were filled with news of conscriptions and border conflicts.
And here was Reivan.
Acting like he’d never heard of any of this.
Count Estienne squinted. "Surely… you jest?"
Reivan widened his eyes in mock confusion. "Oh? Are we at war? I thought it was just a series of unfortunate misunderstandings."
The entire room was now staring at him.
Internally, Reivan smirked.
He had learned something valuable in his past life: The best way to dodge responsibility was to act so clueless that people gave up.
Unfortunately, these nobles weren’t giving up.
"Sir Reivan," Duke Varion said carefully, "You are an intelligent man. Let us not waste time with false ignorance."
Reivan shrugged. "I’m a simple merchant. What would I know about war?"
At that, Princess Seraphina finally spoke.
Her voice was smooth, but her gaze was sharp.
"A simple merchant?" she repeated. "You, who single-handedly exposed an underground arms network?"
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Reivan winced. Okay, to be fair, that had been an accident. He had only been trying to drive down local weapon prices, and somehow people took it as a grand move against corruption.
Seraphina continued. "You, who warned of the eastern city-states’ instability before anyone else?"
That… had also been an accident. He had just been casually complaining to Sylpkx about trade disruptions, and now people thought he had insider intelligence.
"And," Seraphina leaned forward, lips curling slightly, "You, whom the future hero of the realm personally sought out for guidance?"
Reivan almost choked on air.
Wait. Wait, wait, wait.
Was she talking about Arthur?!
"You mean the lost kid in the market?" he asked before he could stop himself.
Seraphina’s eyes glinted. "Ah. So you do remember him."
Reivan fought the urge to slam his head into the table.
Arthur. That idiot. That absolute menace.
By now, Arthur had probably told everyone in the guild about his "great meeting with the wise strategist Reivan."
And now, people thought he was some hidden grandmaster.
Fantastic. Just fantastic.
Reivan forced a smile. "I see where this is going, but I must decline. War is a noble pursuit, but I am a simple man. I wish only to sell my wares and eat good food."
There. A perfect refusal.
Unfortunately, the nobles heard something else entirely.
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MULTIPLE POVS – THE NOBLE MISUNDERSTANDING
Duke Varion’s Thoughts:"Ah. He plays the fool, but he is wise. He does not wish to be tied to any faction, ensuring his independence."
Count Estienne’s Thoughts:"A merchant, he says? No, he is a shadow player, moving unseen! Truly, a dangerous man."
Princess Seraphina’s Thoughts:"He is testing us. Refusing outright, yet remaining in our sphere… A brilliant move."
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THE “OFFER” ESCALATES
The nobles exchanged glances. Then—they sweetened the deal.
"We understand your concerns, Sir Reivan," Duke Varion said. "Thus, we do not ask you to fight. Instead, we offer you land and noble rank."
Reivan froze.
What?
"With your wealth and expertise, you would make an excellent Duke of Commerce."
WHAT?!
Reivan forced himself to stay calm. Accepting noble rank would trap him in political games forever.
He needed to get out.
"That is… generous," Reivan said slowly, "But I am undeserving. Truly, my talents lie elsewhere."
Duke Varion nodded to himself. "I see. He wishes for a different title."
Seraphina smirked.
Reivan felt a cold sweat.
Somehow, he was making this worse.
Count Estienne cleared his throat. "Then, if not nobility, we offer you complete trade monopolies in key territories."
Reivan almost fell out of his chair.
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THE POWER MOVE THAT WASN’T
Sylpkx, who had been loitering outside, walked in just as Reivan was about to lose his mind.
"Boss," she said, completely unaware of the situation, "Some merchants wanna talk about buying that iron shipment you were asking about."
Reivan, desperate for an escape, latched onto the topic immediately.
"Ah, yes! My true passion—iron shipments. Let us speak no more of war, and let me return to what I do best—negotiating metal prices!"
He stood up as fast as possible.
The nobles, of course, misunderstood.
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MULTIPLE POVS – THE FINAL MISUNDERSTANDING
Duke Varion’s Thoughts:"He turns down power and war, choosing instead to focus on trade? A brilliant play."
Count Estienne’s Thoughts:"He refuses land, yet secures resources? Clearly a hidden kingmaker, operating in shadows."
Princess Seraphina’s Thoughts:"He is far more dangerous than I expected. I must watch him closely."
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REIVAN WALKS AWAY… INTO MORE TROUBLE
As soon as they were out of earshot, Reivan turned to Sylpkx.
"That was a disaster," he muttered.
Sylpkx, completely unaware of what just happened, shrugged. "I dunno, boss. They looked impressed."
Reivan sighed. That was the problem.
Somehow, by doing everything in his power to stay out of war, he had accidentally made himself look like a major power broker.
Fantastic. Just fantastic.
Sylpkx nudged him. "Hey, at least you didn’t get roped into fighting."
Reivan groaned.
For now.